


Special Delivery

by yehetmeup



Series: GOT7 Colors Series [4]
Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yehetmeup/pseuds/yehetmeup
Summary: A series of mysterious gifts arrive for you, presents from a secret admirer. Along with the man from the mail room, you attempt to figure out who’s been sending them to you. Color: pink.





	Special Delivery

It started with a rose. A single pink rose, delivered with the usual assortment of contracts and memos one Monday morning.

The mail room worker, Jackson, hands you your stack of paperwork. But after you thank him and set it on your desk, he pauses.

You look up from your computer to see he hasn’t moved. “Was there something else?” you ask.

After a beat he grins and reaches down to the bottom of the cart and pulls out a rose. “This also came in for you this morning,” he says and hands it to you.

You furrow your brow in confusion and hesitantly take the rose, regarding it with awe. None of your past boyfriends had ever sent you flowers before, even on Valentine’s Day. And as you are currently single as a dollar bill, you can’t imagine who it might have come from.

“How’d you know it was for me?” you ask, looking back at him.

He folds his arms and gives you a knowing look, nodding toward the flower. “There’s a tag.”

“Oh,” you say, finally noticing the tiny white tag with your name on it. “Huh.” You can’t resist bringing the flower to your nose to smell it.

“Any idea who it’s from?” he asks, raising a brow.

You wrack your brain, thinking of all the people in your office. You’d lost an important bid on a new client last week. Despite all of your hard work and preparation, they’d gone with a competing company. Everyone had been so kind, complimenting your hard work and saying there’d be other clients. But as a perfectionist, you’d taken the disappointment to heart.

It could have been one of your friends in the office, trying to cheer you up; your mood had been kind of down since finding out you didn’t get the contract. But they’re the type to just send you a funny meme or buy you a drink after work. You can’t imagine anyone who would do something so… old fashioned and sweet as this.

You shake your head, still staring in amazement at the rose. “No, I have no idea.”

“Well it looks like you have a secret admirer,” he says with a warm smile. “Have a great day Y/N.” He moves onto the next office, leaving you lost in thought.

The next day it’s a stuffed animal. A cute Squirtle plushie. Jackson shakes his head, laughing as he hands it to you.

“So what does the tag say?” he asks. “I didn’t read inside. You don’t have to tell me, but I’m dying to know.”

The white tag is larger today, folded in half with your name on the front. You open it up to read the tiny words on the inside. It’s nice to see you smile again. It’s true that yesterday you were in a great mood after the rose. It was a very welcome distraction from the negative thoughts you’d been having, still beating yourself up about the client.

You carefully remove the tag from the plushie and hold it out to Jackson. He comes closer, reading the words. “Well whoever sent this is right. You seemed pretty down for a while after that contract thing happened, it’s good to see you’re coming around,” he says earnestly.

You wince. “You heard about that?”

He shrugs and moves back over to his cart. “I think everyone did. But it doesn’t sound like there was anything else you could have done. So don’t go too hard on yourself, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you reply, your attention drawn back to the cute toy as Jackson wheels his cart over to the next office.

The next day when Jackson comes in with his cart you try your best to be professional. To hide your curiosity and excitement as you wait to see if there are any more surprises. But you fail miserably, completely ignoring the email you’re answering when he comes in.

He says hello and hands you your paper mail, moving to push his cart back out the door. You deflate slightly, chastising yourself for coming to expect something. Just when you’re about to write it off as a sweet surprise and nothing more, he turns around with a wry grin.

“Oh, and I guess there’s something else for you,” he says with a knowing grin.

You clap your hands together excitedly, trying to peer around him to see the bottom of the cart. He purposefully stands with his back to the cart, moving back and forth as you try to see around him, holding something behind his body. You stand up and come in front of him. With a dramatic pout you put your hands on your hips.

“You’re killing me with the suspense here,” you laugh.

“I’ll give it to you, if you tell me if you have any ideas about who your mystery admirer could be first,” he says with a wicked grin. “I’m a sucker for drama and this is way more interesting than delivering contracts.”

You’d spent last night at happy hour with your friends from the office trying to figure it out. Steven in HR? He’d been quite friendly at the office party last year, but you were all pretty sure he had a girlfriend. Adam in accounting? He’d taken you to lunch after you landed a big account a few months ago, but Jennifer was 98% sure she’d heard him talking about a boyfriend in the break room. Most of the other employees in the building are older and married already, so you were all stumped.

Suddenly an idea comes to you and you snap your fingers. “Wait a minute, you work in the mail room,” you start.

His eyes go wide in surprise for a moment, an odd look coming over his face, before settling into a smirk. “You’re so observant, what was the first clue?”

You give him a sarcastic stare back. “Ha ha. That’s not what I mean. You must see when people drop off the mail, didn’t you see who brought these?”

He shakes his head and sighs dramatically. “I’m afraid not. If it had to come through FedEx or the Postal Service I would have, since I have to sign for those packages. But there’s just a big drop box for inter-office mail and every time these were sitting on top when I came in for the day.”

You drop your hands and sigh. “Oh, well. The mystery continues I guess,” you say. But these little gifts are quite the pleasant surprise, so you don’t really mind waiting.

Jackson finally moves his hands out from behind his back and hands you the box. It’s a deep gold color, wrapped in a golden bow. You grin – it’s chocolates from your favorite chocolate shop. Turning over the card you see that the mystery man or woman added an XO underneath the message. Something sweet for you today it reads.

You hold the card in your hand, shaking your head in amusement. You pop off the lid and admire the delicious looking milk chocolates. After popping one in your mouth you hold the tray out to Jackson.

“God these are incredible, would you like one?” you offer.

“Oooh, thank you,” he says dramatically. He makes a production out of examining each one closely, leaning in to stare them down, before choosing one. You laugh as he finally puts it in his mouth. His eyes crinkle as he gives you a warm smile. 

You stand there for a beat, realizing how close you are to him. But a moment later your phone rings behind you, and while you sit down to answer it he slips out the door.

It continues like this for the rest of the week. Thursday it’s a cute keychain with metal stars and moons dangling off a key ring. You happily add it to your keychain, loving the way it sparkles in the light. Your secret admirer has exquisite taste, you think to yourself. It can’t match your shine, but I tried to come close the card reads.

Friday is the best gift yet – a ticket for a concert tomorrow night; your favorite band. Your jaw drops when you open the box.

“Holy crap,” you exclaim. “This show has been sold out for weeks!”

“I think there’s a note on the back,” Jackson says with a grin.

I’ll meet you there at seven, if you’re game. I’ll be wearing a pink rose ;) is written on the back of the ticket in Sharpie. 

A wave of nervous excitement floods your body. You’ll find out who your mystery person is in just over twenty-four hours. The thought is both thrilling and terrifying. What if it’s someone you can’t stand? What if it’s someone you just like as a friend? They must know you pretty well to have chosen such perfect gifts.

You and Jackson end up talking for quite a while after he drops off the latest gift. Even though you started at the same time, about a year ago, you haven’t spent much time together before now. You always exchange a pleasant greeting and the requisite “how are you?” when he drops off the mail. And you’ve chatted in the break room a few times while you both get your morning coffee.

But you find yourself drawn to him. His joyful, high-pitched laugh. The way he drops off the mail in everyone’s office with flair, always a cheerful presence. His warm eyes and the obvious attention he pays to his body, apparent through his white button-down shirt and close-fitting black slacks. The way he looks at you as you talk, the type to give you his full and undivided attention.

After he leaves, called away by the arrival of a FedEx delivery, you sigh. You’re frustrated that you still haven’t figured out who’s been sending you these mystery presents. You’re also secretly wishing that they were from Jackson himself. But he’s always just as curious as you are to see what the present and the message are for the day, so you rule that out repeatedly.

Saturday night you walk toward the concert, tugging down your dress nervously. The concert is in an intimate venue, an exclusive bar with a small stage in the back; it seats fifty people max. You join the small line of people waiting at the entrance. 

The exterior is black; the only indication there’s anything inside is a small neon sign above the door, it’s golden light reads Dilettantes. You smirk at the name and step up to the doorman, handing him your ticket.

He waves you inside. After passing through a hallway you enter the bar. Twelve or so plush leather booths face the stage, lit by a small number of overhead lights. Stools and microphones wait on stage for the band.

You tuck your clutch under your arm and brush your hair behind your ear as you survey the space for your date. You do a double take at a man standing against the bar, a glass of amber liquid in his hands. Jackson’s dark hair is swept out of his face. His all-black ensemble makes him look sexy in a way you haven’t seen before.

He smirks as he makes his way over to you, coming to stand inches from you. A small pink rose is pinned to the lapel of his suit jacket. A twin to the one he gave you earlier in the week.

You grin and lightly smack him in the arm with your clutch. “It was you all along?” you laugh.

He smiles down at you, looking at you through his lashes as he gauges your reaction. “Is that a good surprise or a bad surprise?” he asks.

“Very good,” you say sincerely. “I was hoping it was you, but you were so convincing that I was sure it wasn’t you.”

He laughs. “I can be quite the actor when the occasion calls for it. And winning the attention of an amazing woman like yourself definitely called for it,” he says and runs his hand lightly down your arm.

You lean up on your toes and kiss him on the cheek. “Shall we find a seat?” you ask, sliding your arm into his.

“Let’s do it,” he replies, dropping his hand down to grab yours as he leads you over to a nearby booth.


End file.
